Adventure Magazine Cover, October 30, 1924 — page 50: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

40 Adventure ““Ain’t going to give me a show alone, eh? All right. So long.” So they parted, at the plaza, each going in a different direction along the crowded streets. Hampton, bound in the general direction of the beach, could not miss the uproarious spirit of those around him; for here about the plaza centered the cockpits and gam- bling halls, where monte was the chief diver- sion, and the pulquertas where every kind of drink from Peruvian pisco to Irish whisky could be obtained. For the gold- seekers there was no siesta hour, yet Hamp- ton observed that the Americans in general, and above all the New Englanders, were under far greater restraint than the Euro- peans. Everywhere whanged out ‘‘Susan- nah,” from voice, accordion, violin or ban- jo; the swinging lilt of that air, which could be plaintive or roaring according to the tempo, filled everything. “Tf it’s like this at noon, what is it at night?” said Hampton to a Yankee stand- ing in the street industriously chewing tobacco. “Plain at night, pardner,” was the response, “with them niggers keepin’ knives sharp.” “T suppose you don’t happen to know where I could find a Beverly company I’m looking for?” “Them Beverly men? Sure—the poor are camped down to the beach, just the other side them fishing shacks. Half of them down with plague or fever, I hear teil Hampton turned away and started for the bay, keeping time to “Susannah” as a party of bearded Hamburg men roared it out to German words of their own. That was practically the only tune heard in Pana- ma, even when the military band played in the plaza; there was something in its lilt, in its sharply accented rhythm, which cap- tivated the fancy of men. When he was nearing the beach, along a hot and deserted little street with over- hanging balconies and closed shutters, Hampton descried a figure approaching him with staggering step. This gaunt, emaciated creature, with ragged beard and tatterdemalion garments, he knew at once for an American, and eyed the man with pity. Then, upon drawing closer, dim re- cognition of those disease-smitten features leaped within him, and he halted staring; abruptly, with a gasp, he realized that this reeling scarecrow was the erstwhile dapper Adam Johnson, secretary of the Beverly company! Johnson came closer, fastened haggard eyes on Hampton, and came to a halt. “Vou!” he croaked. ‘No, it can’t be you, Dick Hampton—it can’t be you = Hampton sprang forward and caught the man as he reeled. “Dick Hampton it is, old fellow—here, brace up! You’re sick!” “Sick and starved.” <A hollow groan burst from Adam Johnson. ‘Nickerson died yesterday—he stayed with us. The other officers went with that scoundrel James Day. We’re flat broke. No money, nothing except what we can beg—dysentery, fever “Thank God, man, I found you!” ex- claimed Hampton fervently. “Coming across from Chagres I intercepted a mes- sage from Day. It contained a lot of your money—he was sending it to be cashed in New York. Here, look at these——”’ He produced the drafts, and Adam Johnson looked at them with distended eyes, then put his face in his hands and cried like a child. Hampton drew him into the shade of a doorway. “You can’t know what this means to us, all,” gasped Johnson at length. ‘Thirty of us were here; ten are dead. Three more won’t last until tomorrow. But now we can get food, everything! A lot of the other men have helped us, but most of them don’t care. Now we can get back home—man, this is too good to be true! Thank the good Lord for you, Dick Hampton.” Hampton took Johnson’s arm and turned back toward the plaza. “Here, I have ready money,” he said quietly. ‘‘While you’re getting one of those drafts cashed, if you can do so, Ul be buying up some stuff and engaging a carrier. We’d better take a load down to camp. And tonight I’ll be able to give you proof, Johnson, that I was innocent of the murder of Jed Barnes. Dias was the guilty man—James Day.” “T don’t doubt it now,” said the other bitterly. ‘‘After the way he robbed us all, we'll believe anything of the scoundrel. And, Hampton! Nelly Barnes must have gone on the schooner with him and our officers. Ezra Howe and his wife were to look after her -—’’ Ccomicbooks.c© inn